


Beyond The Grave

by Blissful_Rain



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 10:56:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissful_Rain/pseuds/Blissful_Rain
Summary: Five times Klaus discovered a new power and one time he used them all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well I have recently watch The Umbrella Academy and I am unashamedly obsessed.
> 
> And I had to write about it so here we go, another weird fic. Hope you enjoy!

Stroke by stroke Klaus’ nails were transforming into a glossy black. With careful precision he placed a diamond on the end of each nail because he knew the ‘pointless frivolousness’ was going to annoy his father, that and his nails would look spectacular.A bead of sweat gathered on his temples below the mass of black curls. Just one slip and he would have to repaint his entire nail… he had to be _very_ careful and-

 

Klaus jerked as his bedroom door slammed into the wall. His hand jerked and scraped the polish off his index finger, turning five minutes of careful work into ruins.

 

“Luther, I told you to knock before you break my door!”

 

His brother had a brick for a skull and the patience of a toddler. If he waited five seconds he would have let him in, and all his siblings apparently. Behind Luther was Allison, Vanya, Diego and five, all of them glaring at each other.

 

Klaus grinned, “Arguing about who dad loves more again, dear siblings?”

 

Ben shoved him from besides him, still not looking up from his book on human anatomy. He always looked out for him, even when that meant stopping him for getting in trouble with his frankly hilarious jokes. Again.

It’s not his fault his siblings can’t take a joke; ever since they got their powers they all have a stick shoved so far up their arses its a wonder they aren’t chocking on them. Of course Luther always had his powers, he could lift up Pogo as a two year old. Diego has been throwing knives and forksat the various nannies for as long as he could remember, five sneaking out to the library for what felt like forever ,and Allison has been rumouring people from when she could talk.

 

Vanya is the exception, and it’s not like Ben actually likes his power. Bloodthirsty tentacles- kinky, but not exactly fun.

 

“We came here to settle an argument,” Luther frowned at him, “And don’t speak about father like that. He loves all of us!”

 

Poor naive Luther, still believing love looks like obedience and reward. He could look at any mother and child off the street and know the ‘love’ his father shows them isn’t love at all. That’s what he created mum for- too lazy to even name them.

 

“What ever you say. Now, what’s the reason my manicure is ruined?”

 

Ben patted his thigh comfortingly as if to say ‘there there’.

 

“Caramel cake is the best cake, right Klaus?”

 

Allison looked at him pleadingly. He dark eyes looked like Bambi’s and it was insanely hard to not blurt out that she was absolutely right then and there.

 

“Klaus knows that carrot cake is clearly superior because unlike you two,” Klaus pointed at Allison and Diego, “He has some semblance of a brain.”

 

Diego flushed red, “That isn’t- that isn’t t-true!”

 

“I think red velvet tastes the best, Luther this too!” Vanya argued, her frame slight in comparison to the muscle mass of the other eight year old.

 

He stared at his siblings. Are they really going mad over _cake_ of all things? At least it's better than arguing who gets to be target practice for Diego.

 

“…And?”

 

His siblings stared back at him, “What flavour do you two think are the best?”

 

Ben looked up from his book, looking bored.

 

“I don’t like cake.”

 

Luther growled in frustration as Allison stared at him, horrified.

 

“You don’t like cake?” She whispered to Ben. He shook his head.

 

“Not even a little, like a small slice. Or even vanilla?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Allison looked crestfallen, a similar expression on his other siblings faces. He wished he had a camera because this right here is comedy gold.

 

“What about you Klaus, what cake flavour do you like?”

 

He grinned, twirling the nail posh bottle around his fingers.

 

“Well, I think-“ his siblings looked at him hopefully, even Five which is a very wierd experience, “that chocolate is the best flavour.”

 

“Klaus!”

 

A plastic spoon hit him square int the forehead, thrown by an irritated Diego. Klaus rubbed his temple. That hurt!

 

“Stupid! You were- you were supposes to cho-choose one of the fla-flavours we already choose!”

 

“Carrot cake is for old people,” Five gaped at him in offence, “Red velvet is ruined by that cheese frosting, and caramel does not belong in a cake. Fight me. Thus chocolate is the best flavour.”

 

The room erupted in angry complaints with everyone defending their chosen favourite. He looked at his ruined nail polish in disappointment, he got his nails ruined for this? At least it was entertaining.

 

“But father said we can only buy one cake; carrot cake has a vegetable in it so therefore it’s healthier and that is the cake we should get!”

 

“Then red velvet gives us more calcium!”

 

“Caramel cake was eaten by Beyonce, and Beyonce is-“

 

Christ on a cracker, would they ever shut up? Ben was being no help, content to finish his book and ignore the insanity. He needs to finish the argument so he could get back to painting his nails or trying on a new skirt he smuggled in, he needed-

 

The air felt colder than it was seconds before, a deep chill settling in the pit of his stomach. Something felt off- something dark and old and wrong wrong _wrong wrong-_

 

There was a woman, about twenty years old. She stood in the middle of the room, despite not being there before, with a gaping wound across her throat. Her clothes were shredded and bloody, her hair tanged in blonde knots.

 

Klaus froze, unable to take his eyes off her. His breath was stuck in his throat and he was terrified- who was she, how did she get here?

 

And why does nobody else seem to see her? She was right there, dripping blood onto the floor. She was smiling with bloody teeth, and whispering to him that-

 

“-Klaus? Klaus, are you okay?”

 

Allison was gazing at him in concern, her dark curls spilling over her shoulders in gentle waves- a sharp contrast to the dead girl in the middle of the room. The others had stoped yelling at each other, Ben even set his book down.

 

“Why aren’t you guys freaking out?”

 

Five narrowed his eyes at him, ‘Freaking out about what?”

 

Klaus furrowed his brow in confusion, “What do you mean, she’s right there!”

 

He pointed to the woman, her glassy blue eyes staring directly at him. It was unsettling.

 

“Klaus,” Allison said slowly, like she was talking to a wild animal, “Nobody is there.”

 

Ice settled in the pit of Klaus’s stomach as his siblings exchanged worried looks. They were looking at him like he was crazy but they’re the ones who don’t see her! The woman hadn’t moved, but she was still saying the same thing over and over again.

 

“I’m not crazy. She’s bleeding from her throat, and she’s whispering.”

 

Five pursed his lips. It felt like he was looking at him from under a microscope.

 

“What’s she saying Klaus?”

 

“She likes chocolate cake.” Way too much in his opinion. She keeps whispering it over and over like some sort of mantra, every word she speaks blood pours from her wound in impossible amounts.

 

“Damn it, Klaus! Stop playing around!” Luther shouted, banging his fist on his door. “I thought something was wrong, but it’s just anther one of your stupid pranks!”

 

Klaus recoiled like he’s been slapped- they didn’t believe him?

 

“But- but she’s right there!” He pleaded, “I swear, I’m not lying!”

 

Five rolled his eyes, “There’s no one there Klaus, lay off the caffeine.”

 

He marched out of the room with an annoyed huff, an irritated Diego and Luther following. Vanya hesitated, but followed the others. Allison hesitated, before giving Klaus a quick hug.

 

“Get some sleep, you might be feeling under the weather,” she said softly. With one last concerned look she left, leaving just him and Ben on his bed.

 

They left him, they thought he was playing some kind of joke. They didn’t even try to listen, just marched out the moment that something didn’t go their way. Their actions didn’t change the fact that there was someone there, still bleeding onto his floor boards.

 

He tossed the nail polish off his bed. He doesn’t feel like painting his nails anymore, not with a stranger staring at him with those glassy, unblinking eyes.

 

“You believe me, right Ben? I’m not faking it- I promise!”

Ben scratched the back of his head and looked at him in worry, “Do you want to go see mum?”

 

The hope that was growing in his chest wilted. Somehow the shadows seemed darker, the light from the windows more grey than white. It seemed that even to the person he trusted most in the world he was a freak.

 

Ben cleared his throat, dragging Klaus out out of his spiralling thoughts.

 

“I might not understand you right now, but I do have giant bloodthirsty tentacles that burst out of my chest and rip people in half. If you are weird than I am weird; we can be weird together. I’m here for you, brother”

 

Ben enveloped him in a tight hug. It was warm and safe and everything that Klaus needed. He burrowed into it like it was a lifeline and struggled to hold in his tears. Ben’s shoulder was the perfect shield for blocking out the woman, and the black hoodie he was wearing was plush on his skin.

 

“Thank you,” he murmured, “for being here with me.”

 

Ben just patted him on the back and let go of the hug. He sat next to him, so close their sides were still touching, and began reading aloud. Even if the rest of the world didn’t believe him he could always count on his brother to be there for him, accepting his gay, cross dressing brother for everything that he is.

 

Crazy included.

 

—————

 

They weren’t whispering anymore. They were screaming: wailing terrible, terrible sounds. They were so _loud_.

The girl from earlier was there, but now there were so many more. People of all ages covered in red and horrible wounds reaching for him with blood covered arms. They surrounded his bed, so close to him that he could not hide.

 

 _Klaus!_ They wailed, _Help us!_

_Klause!_

_Help us! Please!_

_We’re begging you!_

 

_Klaus!_

 

He clamped his hands over his ears to try drown out their screams, stifling his sobs with his tear stained pillow. They hand’t left him alone all night. They appeared out of no where, first whispering. As the night progressed they started screaming, and no matter what he did they wouldn’t let him sleep. He was so tired he felt sick, and his anxiety made it feel like a man was sitting on his tightly wound chest.

 

“Please,” he moaned, screwing his eyes shut, “Let me sleep!”

 

They didn’t listen, they didn’t even pause. Just wailing and clawing at the space around him, like zombies from a horror movie. They became louder. No matter how hard he pressed his hands against his ears it felt like they were shouting in his head and his head felt like it was going to explode-

 

“Let me sleep!” He screamed, throwing his pillow across the room in frustration, “Go away!”

 

He curled up his bed, head resting on his knees and hands still firmly over his ears. It could be that long until morning, could it? God let it be nearly morning, he couldn’t take much more of this. His sanity felt like it was slipping, like he was clawing to hold on but the ground was moving under him like sand.

__

“Number four, what is the meaning of this racket!”

 

Sir Reginald Hargreeves marched into his room and flicked the lights on. The bright light hurt his eyes and he could hardly focus on the berating words of his father but he was so _relieved_. He didn’t care the he was in trouble. The ghosts gelt more bearable, and thats all that mattered.

 

“Number four!”

 

Klaus laughed, hysteria edging into his voice. “They wont stop screaming,” he said breathlessly, “They’re so _loud_.”

 

His father pursed his lips, “I don’t have time for your incessant games. ”

 

He shook his head. Oh, how he wished they were games. The men and women bleeding and covered in festering wounds- the ones who wont leave him alone.

 

“He did this earlier.”

 

Luther stalked out of the shadows to stand by his fathers side, always his fathers perfect number one. Both of them loomed in the doorway, refusing to leave but refusing to come any closer. He looked at Klaus wearily, “I think he’s playing a prank, he said the person he saw earlier liked chocolate cake.”

 

“Number four…” his father warned, “Behave.”

 

“Oh yes, I’ll behave. But only once they stop screaming,” he said cheerfully, “A boy needs his beauty sleep you know.”

 

Klaus draped himself half off his bed and waved sarcastically at his father. He pointed at the man in the corner, the one who thought it was acceptable to wear blood stained denim with denim, and flipped him the middle finger.

 

“That one over there, he knows how to scream. Really distracting,” he let himself fall flat onto his floor, “But combined with the desperate wails everyone else? L-O-U-D.”

 

He knows at this point he must look insane, and he honestly doesn’t know if he is or not. He’s seeing things that aren’t there, and hearing things that no one else can. By the disturbed look on his father’s and Luther’s face they think he’s insane too.

 

“Grace, come here!” His father demanded, tapping his foot impatiently for her to get from her charging station to his room. A few years ago he banned her from comforting them from their nightmares, saying that she was ‘coddling them into pathetic brats’.

The ‘clip clop’ of his mum’s heels echoed down the hallway as she daintily and obediently walked into his bedroom. She was beautiful, as always. He’s never seen a hair out of place, or her beaming smile falter even on the worst of afternoons.

 

“Yes?” She was still smiling, but Klaus could almost imagine that it didn’t reach her eyes.

 

“Book Number Four an appointment with a psychiatric ward for tomorrow morning at once- make sure it stays out of the press.”

 

“Oh dear, is every thing okay with Klaus?” She asked sweetly. She gazed at Klaus with something he would like to imagine is concern. A teenage girl started clawing at the knife embedded at her chest, screaming at Klaus to help her. He giggled without feeling happy, feeling tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

 

“Me? Everything is just _great_ mum, that girl over there isn’t. She has a knife in her chest.”

 

His mum’s smile, for the first time, faltered. She started walking towards Klaus, probably to hug him like she did when they were younger. His father gripped her arm and tugged her back.

 

“Call the ward Grace,” he growled. His mum hesitated, but his father put his foot down.

 

“Now! Number four is clearly unstable, until he is treated he shall stay isolated in his room. “

 

His father turned off his bedroom light. The hallway light illuminated his silhouette, making his height and stiff posture transform him into something stranger.

 

“Go to sleep Number Four; your screams are annoying as they are pointless.”

 

His door slammed shut and the lock clunked. He wasn’t alone in the dark, they won’t let him forget. Not with their begging and wailing, their blood stained limbs reaching out for him in the dark. Their faces distorted in the shadows and their screaming so _loud_ -

 

Klaus clutched his face with his hands and tried to muffle his sobs.

 

—————

 

“Klaus, time for your meeting with Dr. Clair.” The door to his room in the psychiatric room was gently opened, a middle aged nurse holding a clipboard gestured to the hallway.

 

He stayed silent, but hopped off his bed and followed her. They had been loud last night, and after his first day the ward they learned to put him in a room far away from everybody else.

 

The hallway was painted in bright and fun colours with pretty pictures of flowers on the wall. The lounges were bright green and the common room had a hot chocolate machine. It’s supposed to make the other children more comfortable, but honestly the colours did nothing to silence the thousand yard stare of the hallucinations. Dr Claire spent five minuets with him the day before- he’s heard whispers of ‘schitzophrenia’ and ‘acute psychosis’.

 

Her room had comfy padded chairs and fidget toys, the walls lined with framed drawings and pictures of serene nature landscapes. He immediately picked up a Rubik’s cube and slumped down into chair, completely exhausted. He must if had five hours sleep over three days, from the reflections from the windows he looked no better than the monsters he saw. Eye bags, oily hair and pasty pale skin.

 

“Good morning Klaus,” she smiled, “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

He shrugged, “Tired, they wouldn’t shut up.”

 

Dr.Clair leaned forwards in interest, note pad at the ready.

 

“Can you tell me about them?”

 

His first reaction was to say ‘sorry sweetie, but no’. But if he could get some meds… He sees so many, but only one of them has been persistently following him from room to room.

 

“The girl over there look about twelve.”

 

“Can you tell me more?”

 

“Well, her hair looked like it might have been blonde once, but it is _soaked_ in blood. She’s got bruises and grazes all over her, and I’m pretty sure her arm is broken.”

 

Dr. Clair jotted down some notes, “Does this girl talk to you?”

 

“Sometimes- she’s a lot nicer than the others,” Klaus explained. He fiddled with the Rubik’s cube, trying not to let the girl disturb him. She’s whispering now.

 

“Anything else?”

 

Klaus listened to her whispering, and passed it on.

 

“She says her name is Polly and the car was a green Toyota.”

 

Dr. Claire’s face turned white as a sheet as she dropped her note book with a loud thump.

“What colour is her skirt?”

 

Klaus looked at her in surprise. She’s getting really into the whole hallucination thing.

“Blue, and how did you know she’s wearing a skirt?”

 

Dr. Clair looked like she was about to be sick, “My sister died twelve years ago in a car accident- her name was Polly and we never caught her killer.”

 

——————

 

A day later Klaus was back at the mansion with the conformation that he was seeing dead people, not hallucinating. His description of Polly matched up with the real Polly Denatte who died twelve years ago. The wounds are the same as the ones recorded in the autopsy- blunt force trauma damage.

 

He thought he would feel invincible when his powers came in- like he was part of the team. He never did, he only felt more like a freak than ever.The others tried to understand his powers. Maybe it was because they couldn’t see them or he played to many pranks in the past but nevertheless it hurt when they give up trying.

 

“What ever, Klaus.”

 

Despite how weird and useless his powers were Ben never changed. They still read books and painted nails in his room- other times it was a fashion show (If Klaus was being honest it was very one sided)- but the most important thing was Ben was always there. He made the ghosts bearable. At night, when the screams got too much to handle, he would sit besides him until he fell asleep. He was his brother and his saviour.

 

So when Ben died Klaus was the first to know. He appeared in his room just after midnight and this time it was Klaus screaming.

 

No one believed he could see his dead brother. He insisted he was right there in the room with them- their nerdy brother still telling Klaus to lay off the booze even in death. They told him to stop being a dick and grow up.

 

They could all believe that he was beyond saving when he first got high off the anti-psychosis drugs- but maybe they believed that all along. 

 

He was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

“Here’s my story, its sad but true…”

Klaus leaned against the bar, quietly sipping a glass of whiskey. His body was exhausted. He was covered in bruises, dirt and gunpowder and hadn’t properly showed in months. His hair was caked with mud and filth- but tonight was going to be a good night. 

“It’s about a girl that I once knew.” 

Music from his childhood memories played through the crackling speakers. Men around him downed shots of alcohol and danced with the local women, happy to forget the war and have some fun with beautiful ladies.   
He swirled the amber liquid around the rim of his glass. War was hard. It was full of mud, long nights and brutal training. There wasn’t a drop of ecstasy or cannabis to help him get over the pain and for a while the addict inside of Klaus struggled. For the first time in years he was clean- it was harder than anything he had ever done before. But when it comes down to it Klaus knows his suffering was worth it. 

He was tapped on the shoulder from behind, Klaus broke out into a grin. 

“I was begging to think that a bomb was dropped on you,” he teased, “with how long I was waiting.” 

Dave chuckled and gently took the whiskey from his hands, placing it on the bar. He was filthy and smelled nothing like like roses, dressed in the same green garb Klaus that was wearing. He looked like had a fight with tank and lost, but the light danced playfully in his caramel eyes. 

“We agreed no alcohol, right sweetheart?” Dave knew he had problems, bucket loads. The first day he arrived Dave told him ‘Hands of the alcohol mate, before it gets its hands on you.’  
It was a miracle he had survived the first attack. He had been hungover, recovering from torture and going through withdrawals; and he had never held a gun in his life let alone use one. Dave decided to stick around, probably out of pity, and show him the ropes only if he stayed sober. 

He hadn’t had more than a glass or two since. 

“It was loud,” he murmured to him, “They wouldn’t shut up.”

Dave squeezed his hand reassuringly, shooting him that crooked smile that Klaus could dream about all night. 

“How about I take your mind off them?” 

He tugged Klaus off the bar stool with a grin and sent him stumbling into his arms. Klaus laughed in surprise, feeling all too glad to have some fun. 

“I’d keep away from a run around Sue!”

They practically glided to the dance floor, feeling so light inside that they could float away. Dancing with Dave was more addictive than any drug he tried. They weren’t coordinated at all, and he still had bruises from when Dave trod on his toes. None of that mattered; the dance floor was full of people who could dance as well as they could bake an upside down pineapple cake. 

Their dancing was more than just their bodies, it was a dance of their hearts. And oh how they danced.   
They moved together with more energy than they aught to have; swinging and jumping side to side like the dame’s on the postcards. Dave grabbed his hands and spun him around, laughing as he dipped him centimetres from the ground. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, fitting together like pieces from the same puzzle. 

It felt like it was just them on the dance floor. He could still see the dozens of other men and hear the music, but he only had eyes for Dave. Dave, who drops on him on the floor when he dips him too low, and Dave, the man who stole his heart. The light hardly illuminated the bar- but even a blind man could see that the love shared between their gazes. 

The song slowed down, and they slowed to a waltz. They gazed into each others eyes, it was like looking down at the earth from space. Klaus could see the all fine lines and the freckles and resisted the urge to kiss every single one of them.   
They swayed gently to their own tune, slow and gentle. Dave’s hand rested on his lower back, his other grasping Klaus’s own hand. 

Right then and there, standing in rundown bar years away from his family in the arms of a soldier, Klaus feels like he’s finally home. 

Dave pulled Klaus in closer, close enough that his breath tickled Klaus’s ear. 

“How ‘bout we go outside” He purred, “And enjoy each others company for a bit?”

He traced the line of Klaus’s jaw with his finger, skirting playfully around his lips. His breath was caught in his throat. God, his man is sex on legs. 

“You don’t even have to ask.”

They made their way through the crowd with their hands clasped tightly together and walked out into the moonlight. It was a full moon, the icy blue light illuminating Dave’s cropped, rust coloured hair and gentle chocolate eyes. They walked into the woods, the noise of the bar gradually fading into silence. 

Dave looked like a god, so freaking perfect Klaus could die. He quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you just gonna stare at me or are we going to get down to business?”

He couldn’t wait a moment longer, the coil of anticipation making his chest almost burst. He lunged. 

Klaus smashed his mouth against Dave’s in a frenzy of heat and lust. The kiss was wet and full of teeth, their minds running on pure animalistic pleasure. Dave’s hands were pulling his hair so hard it almost hurt and his knee rested firmly between Klaus’s legs. He ground his pelvis down, moaning as fireworks exploded through his entire body.   
They grappled at each other, frantically trying to hold on as hot sparks of pleasure made their toes curl. 

Heat pooled in Klaus’s belly as the kiss went deeper and more intimate. Calloused hands traced his back, slowly inching lower and lower. Dave felt solid against him. He could feel his stomach muscles flexing through his shirt and the tone of arms holding him close. 

“Dave,” he moaned breathily. His nerves felt like they were on fire under the assault of Daves kisses, trailing down his jaw until his sensitive neck was pampered with kisses. His legs felt like jelly, the only thing holding him up was Dave. Dave nuzzled his neck, his lips brushing against his sensitive hairs making them stand on end. 

“I love getting you all riled up,” he purred, “You’re so beautiful when you’re moaning my name.”

He ground his pelvis against Klaus’s hip, each thrust making Klaus gasp in pleasure. He felt like he was holding on by a thread, Dave inching him closer and closer to oblivion with every sinful touch. 

Dave captured his mouth in another dizzying kiss. Klaus leaned into it, their sweaty bodies moving flush and slick against each other. Dave’s touches were like electricity; everywhere his hands stroked and teased buzzed in excitement. 

They broke out of the kiss for air and panted from for air. They stared at each other, pupils blown with lust. Cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, foreheads glistening with sweat. His heart beat was impossibly fast, the fire pooling in his belly aching to be acted on. but… he couldn’t bring himself to go any further. As much as he longed for a round of wild, wilderness sex there was something he needed to do.   
Looking at Dave, looking at everything he has done for him, he knew without a doubt that he was in love. 

“I love you!” He blurted out. He was terrified, he put his heart on his sleeve and said the three words had vowed to never say. He waited for what felt like eternity for Dave to reply, breathing hard in the moonlight. He couldn’t see Dave in detail- was he mad? Disgusted?

Klaus took a deep breath, feeling more insecure than he had in his whole life. “I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s freakin’ terrifying. I’d get it if you don’t feel the same. Look at me, i’m-“

Dave brushed a finger against his lips, silencing him. He leant his head against Klaus’s temple and gently threaded his hands with Klaus’s. They stayed silent, floating in some sort of serenity. 

“Klaus,” Dave said, “You’re an absolute moron.”

Klaus blinked in surprise. He was one hundred percent right but he didn’t think Dave would ever say it… 

“You’re batshit crazy and you talk to people that aren’t even there. You have no personal space, the darkest sense of humour I have ever come across, and you know what?”

Klaus held his breath. Was this it, the big rejection?

“I love you. You’re crazy, but I think i kinda like it”

He burst out into laughter, tears springing into the corners of his eyes. Dave was truely amazing.

He kissed Dave on the cheek, “How,” he kissed him again, “Did I get someone so kind, beautiful and incredible as you?” With every word he kissed closer and closer to his lips, until he gave him a featherlight kiss on his lips. Dave lightly kissed him back, smiling against Klaus’s lips. 

“I don’t know, I guess I am pretty amazing.”

Dave flexed his arms and posed, “Just look at this. My arms are a work of art.”

Klaus admired what he could see of the tattoo, the one that inspired Klaus to get his own poke tattoo, “I would say that you’re a dick, but then again your dick is pretty damn impressive.”

He was kissed on the nose. 

“Damn right, my dicks impressive. Gets you going every time.”

He though of all those hidden moments together. The showers, the barracks and the backseat of a car- the first time they kissed. He should feel happy, turned on even. 

He didn’t. Dave was- Dave was indescribable. And they were in the middle of a war. Every day he sees the dead wondering around with bullet wounds unable to pass on. It was terrifying when he suddenly realised either one of them could be next. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

He shook his head.   
“Dave… we could die today. Maybe tomorrow, or even next week.”

Dave heaved in a breath and exhaled slowly, “Maybe. But we’re soldiers, it’s what we do.”

“What if- what if we could get away from here?”

There was a heavy pause, a sudden tension in the air. 

“You mean run away?”

Klaus shifted where he stood. God, it's hard to explain time travelling to someone from the sixties.   
‘Oh, I have a magical suitcase. Totally legit.’ Yeah, like that would work. 

“It’s difficult to explain, but if you let me show you-“

“No Klaus!” Dave cut him off in anger. Klaus reeled back like he’d been slapped, “I’m not running away from my duty. From my country!”

“You wont be!” Klaus tried to reason,”This is just a misunderstanding”. The conversation was falling apart faster than he could hold it together, and Dave was quickly loosing patience. 

Dave closed his eyes in annoyance, “I don’t see how we could ‘get out’ of the war without running away.”   
He turned away and started walking, every step making Klaus’s heart break a little more.  
“We’ll talk tomorrow, Klaus. I need time to think.”

He may as well have punched him because it would have had the same effect; deep, aching pain. He didn’t know what to do to make things better and for the first time he wanted his family- at least Allison or Ben. They were always better with feelings and heart stuff that Klaus always managed to screw up. 

“… I never lie.” Klaus whispered to the dark, “I can bring us home, together and happy.”

The dark didn’t care, and there was nobody else around to hear it but himself. 

—————

He slept fitfully that night. He tossed and turned on his roll out mattress, his fight with Dave replaying over and over in his head. He pressed his palms over his eyes, already feeling the bags developing under his eyes. 

“I need time to think.”

Did that mean Dave didn’t want to be with him anymore? Like everything else in his life he probably screwed his relationship up. He sounded like a traitor- someone that the army barracks demonised over bottles of brandy. Dave had the heart and soul of a soldier. He was a good man and loyal to his country, and Klaus managed to cross every one of his lines. 

He desperately wanted to talk to Ben, he wanted to scream out his frustrations and have his brother give him the answers. He wanted to run to Dave and beg him to forget last night ever happened, that it was all a massive misunderstanding.   
He groaned into the lump of cloth that was his pillow and pulled at his curls. 

Why was life so difficult without drugs? Things were simple before. The ghosts came out, he got high, and avoided rehab. He desperately wanted to take a hit of anything. Weed, alcohol, heroin- as long as it makes the pain go away. 

He must have groaned a little too loudly because a boot hit him in the head. He winced, feeling the back of his head painfully throb. 

“Shud’up Klaus, some’us want ta bloody sleep. Wanker.”

The man on the next mattress, Angus, glared at him from under his thread bare sheet. He was a middle aged man with the temper and vocabulary of a sailor, someone who definitely did not like waking up before he had to. 

“Sorry,” he apologised half heartedly, “It’s the ghosts, you know?”

He heard Angus snort in displeasure, “Sure, sure. How could I fo’get ‘bout them ghosties?.”

It was common knowledge that Klaus was a bit insane. One, he thought he was talking to Clifford’s. Technically he was, but everyone else saw him talking to thin air. Clifford's had been dead for a week, he had died of an infected shrapnel wound. So he told the truth and said that he could see the dead. No one beloved him, of course, but everyone in the army was a bit mad themselves at that point. 

 

A siren wailed, long and despairing. The troopers around him jumped out of bed in a flurry, all of them rushing to get dressed. He quickly did the same, grabbing his gun and helmet. 

It was hardly sunrise and they were already under attack. 

His palms became sweaty, his hands trembling as they tightly clung onto the gun. Only a few kilometres away was the battle front- one he had been on countless times before and survived by pure luck. 

“Listen up men! It’s a big one today- it’s gonna be a tough fight. But we are Americans fighting along side the Brits and the Aussie’s. We fight for our country, and for our freedom!”

Their commander was a grizzled man in his thirties, a thick scar running across his left cheek. He blew his whistle, pointing towards the dozens of transport vehicles. 

“Now move, move, move!”

Klaus breathed in harsh, raggedy breaths as he was pushed onto a vehicle with around a dozen other men. He recognised only a few of them, his nerves only increasing when he realised Dave wasn’t with him. The soldiers around him where grim and silent, battle hardened from months of harsh conditions. Most of them, anyway. 

“You’ll be alright, lad,” Angus said lowly, “You’ll see.”

The kid, he looked around sixteen, smiled shakily. The helmet was practically falling off his head, kept on by his ridiculously large ears. “Yes, sir.”

Angus clasped the kid on the shoulder, trying to offer comfort. It was a kind thought, but every single one of them knew that there is no comforting anybody. Not at war, not the you can already hear the guns firing. “None of that ‘sir’ business, you hear me? You and me are equals, we are, both men fighting the same battle.”

There was no more talking, but the tension remained. They held onto the walls as the van bumped over the rocky terrain as it entered the jungle, the kid lacking the muscle mass to keep him stable. Before he knew it they were there. The next moment they were hiking through the jungle towards the front lines, dozens of other soldiers by their sides. 

The ground was wet and muddy, the air sticky. The air smelt like gunpowder and they could hear the sharp sound of guns in the near distance. It was hard, walking through a war zone, but not as hard as not knowing.   
Not knowing if Dave was dead or alive, or if he would ever be able to apologise. Klaus grips his gun tightly, his fear weighing him down as much as the ammunition packs to his back. 

They broke through a a tree line and stepped into a war zone. 

It was hell on earth. 

 

He ran, diving behind a sandbag to avoid a torrent of bullets from the enemy. He loaded his own gun, aimed it over the bag, and fired. The sound combined with the gunshots of everyone else was deafening. 

Planes droned over head- explosions echoing for miles. There was no time to panic, the best he could do was squash the terror deep down in his gut. 

“Their gaining ground!” Roared a soldier, “Keep firing before they-“

He dropped to the ground with a crater sized wound between his eyes, blood and brain splattering on the neighbouring soldiers. 

They had no time to mourn. Bullets continued to rain down and people continued to die- he had to be sure he wasn’t going to be one of them. He had to get back to Dave.   
Dave gave him the strength to pull the trigger, to ignore the horrible flood of guilt as he kills another living person. 

The battle field roared around him and Klaus found himself struggling to stay sane. The dead screamed, the living screamed; there was so much pain and death that it was over whelming. The deafening noise and the sharp, metallic scent of blood- it was making it harder and harder to breathe. 

The enemy was gaining ground, slowly slaughtering the front lines. The bodies piled up, men using corpses as shield or supports and other men retching as their mates where killed before their eyes. 

“Shit!” The soldier next to him cried, “Grenade!”

It was the young one. His uniform was stained red and his forehead drenched in sweat, in his hand he was clutching the grenade with a white knuckled grip, the kid was shaking all over. Klaus’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach; he did not want to die today, and he didn’t want a kid to die either. He hadn’t had the chance to apologise for all his shit. He only just met Dave and its too soon for it all to send-

The boy stood up with a tremble in his stance, “It’s okay, I got it. I played baseball at school!”

He threw the grenade with a swing of his arm and launched it far away. It exploded seconds later, the shockwave rattling his chest. 

“Get down!” Klaus shouted at him desperately, “Before you get shot!”

The boy was still standing. Klaus wanted to drag him down but he was too far away. He looked proud, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I did it! Did you see tha-“

There was an almighty bang and the boy, who was far too young to fight a war, cried out in pain. He clutched his chest, his mouth falling open in shock. Seconds later he fell like a stone, dead. 

Klaus wanted to be sick. He’d seen the kid around the bar; he chatted to the ladies and to anybody who would listen about his cats and his life as a farmer in the midwest. He was innocent. He was young. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for it to be over soon. He didn’t know how long he could keep doing this. He wanted out- he missed Ben and Diego. God, at this point he’d even put up with the arsehole of a brother he calls Luther. 

He wasn’t ready to die. 

He looked up at the sky with tears in his eyes. The air was so smokey he could choke and the aircrafts droned closer and closer until they were deafening. He could smell gun powder and hear screams- he wanted Dave.

He wanted to-

 

 

 

 

There was darkness. 

 

… It was always dark..

He was somewhere, but it felt like no where. 

 

Silence. 

 

Peace. 

 

Who was he again? There was something important…

 

Something, maybe someone? 

He wasn’t always in the eternal dark. 

He needs to… wake. He needs to wake. 

Why?

Why would he want to leave the dark?

There was … there was a war. Blood. Screams. 

 

Death.

He had to remember. Something was important. 

He was… everything. 

 

He needed him. Klaus lived for him. 

His name- his name was-

 

Dave. 

 

 

 

Klaus jerked awake with a strangled gasp. He flailed. He was trapped under something- it was suffocating and it blocked the light. Where was he? He was fighting with the blood, screams, dead all around him and then there was darkness. 

Where was Dave? He felt like he was trapped and he couldn’t get out, memories of begging for his father to get him out of the mausoleum assaulting his consciousness. He clawed at what ever was covering him, whimpering like a wounded animal. 

“Please,” he said hoarsely. His throat felt drier than sandpaper, he could hardly whisper let alone yell for help. “Please, help me!”

It was too warm and too cold at the same time. His skin hurt, his chest hurt- he wanted to go home. 

All at once it was like his prayers where answered. He was freed and blinding light poured into his eyes. He squinted, only making out a silhouette surrounded by a halo of light. 

“… Klaus?”

It was Dave; the angel who freed him was Dave. Klaus could laugh until he cried. Of course it would be Dave. 

“Dave,” Klaus said his name like it was fresh water on a desert island, and to him he was, “You came for me.”  
Klaus shakily got onto his hands and knees and tried to breathe. It felt like he was massively hungover; his muscles and bones ached like they never had before. With effort he managed to stand- the world sinning from under his feet. God, he needed some Panadol. 

He stumbled over, expecting Dave to do his thing where he swept him up in a hug. But he didn’t. His face was white as chalk. Dried tear tracks coated his cheeks and he was trembling. Klaus, in his all his months in the army, had never ever seen Dave this terrified. Not when they were attacked at midnight or had a knife fight with the enemy. Something was wrong.

Klaus approached him as cautiously as he could, taking note at how Dave was staring at his forehead with horrified awe. “Dave, are you okay?” 

“Klaus…” Dave scrubbed his eyes with his hands and blinked at him in disbelief, “What are you doing here?”

Klaus frowned, “I know I’m not sleeping beauty but I can sleep where ever I want. Also, no idea how I got here. Nada.”

He looked around owlishly. He was in the meadow where he kissed Dave- why was there a grave?   
He was right. Something was terribly wrong. 

“What’s wrong?”

Dave brushed back his hair stressfully. He was coated head to toe in dirt and blood, his hair not an exception, “I don’t even now where to start.”

“The beginning would be nice.”

Dave’s lips twitched for a moment before it was replaced with uncertainty. He was still looking at him like he was a horror show- he didn’t look that bad did he?

“You where dead, Klaus”

 

“… Hate to burst your bubble Dave but I’m pretty sure I’m alive.”

“No!” Dave burst out, “You where dead! We won the battle, only just. I couldn’t find you anywhere and then I found you on a pile about to be put in a mass grave-“

Dave broke off, brushing tears out of his eyes furiously. 

“I wouldn’t let them bury you like that. I took your body and carried it all the way here. I had to bury you proper- they were just going to dump you in the ground and forget about you and I couldn’t let that happen.”

He walked over to the grave wearily, a shovel resting against a nearby tree. “I wrapped you in bedsheets and I was going to bury you here- I thought you would like that.”

Klaus was moved. No one had ever cared about him enough to dig him a grave, or carry him kills and mies over a rocky terrain. But some things still didn’t add up. 

“Are you sure I was dead? Klaus asked, “My head hurts like a bitch but I feel pretty much alive.”

“Your brains were a puddle next to your skull. You where dead.”

Klaus reached up and touched his throbbing skull. It was sticky, and his fingers came back red. 

“If I was dead then how am I alive?”

Dave plonked down on the tiredly, patting the ground next to him invitingly. He looked exhausted. Black bags were under his eyes and he still looked far too pale in comparison to Dave’s usual golden complexion. 

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

A light switched flicked on his Klaus’s head. This is his chance to explain everything. How he got here, who he is and how they can leave. 

“I told you I could see the dead, didn’t I?”

Dave stilled and looked at him wearily, “I thought you were just bat shit.”

“Nope,” Klaus popped the p, “I’ve been seeing the damn things for years. Not good for your mental health, I can tell you that. But the whole ‘not dying’ thing is pretty new. But it warms my heart that you loved me despite thinking that I was insane.”

“Love,” Dave corrected, “I still love you, I never stoped.” 

Emotions slammed into Klaus like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath out his chest. “You still love me?” He stuttered. He was so sure that he had ruined it all. And to hear Dave say that… 

Dave slung an arm of Klaus’s shoulders and drew them close. Dave was warm, so warm that Klaus just realised he was almost cold to the touch. 

“Always.”

“But what about yesterday? I thought you were done with me after I-“

“Did nothing wrong,” Dave finished for him, which was definitely not what he was thinking. More like ‘After I screwed up’. 

“I did a lot of thinking when you were, you know,” Dave swallowed, “dead. I thought that if I had listened to you and made sense of what you where trying to tell me then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have died.”

Dave looked up at the sky and clasped his hands together. It was the afternoon now, the sun just starting to peak below the horizon. It casted a fiery red glow across the sky, the red catching in Dave’s hair beautifully. 

“I had a lot to think about when I was digging your grave. What kind of life would we have lived if we did run away? I still don’t want to abandon my country. But if you say you have a way to get out of here, to let us grow old together, I’m willing to do it.”

Klaus rubbed at his eyes emotionally, shaking his head in wonder. 

“Grow old together, huh? A year ago I didn’t think I’d make it past forty. But now- now I see a life with you.” He was crying, and he was damn proud of it. Somehow, against the odds, he finally found happiness after thirty years of agony. 

“So how do we get out of here?”

Klaus sniffled, feeling the dirt on his face turn into sticky mud. 

“Well, that might be a bit harder to explain.”

Dave elbowed him in his side playfully, “I saw you come back from the dead. What could be worse than that?”

Klaus grinned; he had no idea. 

“Try a time travelling suitcase and the year 2018.”

Dave blinked in surprise. He looked like he was going to ask about it, but wisely decided not to. 

“Well then… I have been proven wrong.”

Klaus picked at the callouses on his hands, already imagining buying a house and all of that other dumb stuff Klaus thought he would never have, “How does tomorrow sound?”

“To start a new day with you? Perfect.”

He rolled his eyes, if only the world knew that Dave the big, strong soldier was a giant sap. 

“Are you sure?”

Dave grabbed his chin, gently stroking him with his thumb. He looked at Klaus with a soft look on his face, gazing at him like he was the sun. It felt strange. He had never been anybodies anything befe, and now he was somebody everything. 

“Completely.”

They fell into a kiss, slow and full of promises. They clung to each other like they were life lines, intwining their limbs and hands so closely they felt like they would never fall apart.   
It was going to be a big day tomorrow. They would be going home, and they would start their happily ever after away from the war. It was going to be perfect. 

Klaus laughed as they rolled onto the ground, touching each other on their faces, sides and everywhere they could reach. Dave removed his shirt and impatiently tugged at Klaus’s. The rest of his life was going to be magical: if only for the fact that he was spending it with Dave. 

 

 

 

 

Two days later he knew he had never been more wrong in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I'm evil.
> 
> *Starts sobbing*
> 
> I hated killing Dave, but it had to happen :(
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to kudos! And comment, comments are much appreciated.


End file.
